The Drama
by Ari Moriarty
Summary: Break a leg tomorrow, SuperNova23! Mitsuru drags Yukiko to see a piece of English theater. Yukiko x Mitsuru. Inspired by Hamlet, and by a friend's upcoming Shakespearean debut.


**Author's Note: **This is for **SuperNova23**. Break a leg tomorrow in your debut Shakespearean performance! *cheers*

This, honestly, doesn't fit in to my persona story timeline anywhere. It isn't particularly relevant to any of the plots that I am currently working on, at all. It's just a gift for a friend, and that, I think, is enough.

**The Drama**

Yukiko was having mixed feelings.

When, several days before, Mitsuru had politely asked her if Yukiko would enjoy accompanying her to a local theatrical production, Yukiko had absolutely jumped at the opportunity. She never really had a chance to attend cultural events; at least, not events that a mature adult like Mitsuru would consider legitimately "cultural." Sure, there was the occasional school play at Yasogami, but those unfortunately were often too embarrassing to sit through, even if that one girl, Yumi Ozawa, did have a real talent.

The play, Mitsuru had informed her, was "Hamlet," a very famous work of dramatic English literature, written by one of the most well-known and controversial English playwrights of all time. Mitsuru had assured Yukiko that any student of literature in any language would eventually have studied the works of Shakespeare, and that Mitsuru herself had read them in English, and in the translated French. Yukiko, who usually preferred, in the safety and privacy of her own room, to read just slightly scandalous romance novels in her own language, was a bit daunted by Mitsuru's zealous praise of the play, and by her litany of literary accomplishments. Still, she'd dressed herself up as best she could, and had been thrilled when Mitsuru had offered to pick her up at her house, to drive both of them, in Mitsuru's elegant, shiny new car, to the large and stately theater in the city.

At first, when they'd taken their seats, and the lights had gone down, Yukiko had felt those delightful little chills running down her spine as the murmur of the audience members died away in anticipation of the actor's entrance on to the stage. Much to Yukiko's relief, Mitsuru had assured her that the play they would be seeing today was a Japanese translation, so that Yukiko's impressive but still incomplete understanding of the English language wasn't going to be put to the test. Yukiko had felt like a great lady out of some formal fairy tale, rather than the reluctantly destined owner of a local country inn.

Now, however, having sat through half of the production already, Yukiko realized that there was a problem she hadn't anticipated.

She wasn't sure that she really liked the play.

As far as she could tell, it was the story of a prince named Hamlet, who spent most of his time complaining, but not a lot of time getting anything done. Chie, thought Yukiko, would have had something to say about that. She always had something to say about it when Yukiko decided she'd rather whine than try to solve a problem. That was one of the greatest things about Chie. She was a doer, a pusher, someone who got the job done. Maybe, reflected Yukiko, as the lead actor droned on and on, what Hamlet really needed in his life was someone like Chie to give him that little push in the right direction. That Laertes guy might have managed it, if he hadn't disappeared for most of the play.

Hamlet's father, apparently, had died…and it was revealed, eventually, that the father had been killed by Hamlet's uncle, Claudius. Claudius apparently had murdered the king in order to marry his wife, whose name was Gertrude. It was never clear to Yukiko if Gertrude had known about her husband's murder, or had been completely oblivious, but she certainly seemed to be more of a pawn than an actual character. As far as Yukiko could tell, she hadn't made any choices for herself, or done anything on her own at all. She almost felt sorry for her. What was the point, Yukiko wondered, in being queen, if it meant that you still no control over your own life?

There were a lot of other things as well that happened during the show. Several other characters were killed, there were romantic intrigues and shocking moments, but Yukiko discovered rather quickly that she was having trouble getting attached to any of the characters. She didn't really like any of them at all. They were all despicable people, with horrible things to say about each other, and very few redeeming qualities that could have made them more interesting to listen to. She was really struggling to sit through the production, especially since she had learned, by reading the synopsis, that there was even more carnage and disaster to come at the end.

Mitsuru, on the other hand, seemed absolutely enthralled. Rather than spend too much time on the play itself, Yukiko found that she was focused much more often on Mitsuru's face, as it was gently and strangely lit by the glow that came from the overhanging stage lights. As Yukiko watched, she saw Mitsuru's lips moving slowly, mouthing the words that Gertrude said during some of the more dramatic and supposedly poignant moments and monologues.

Mitsuru, thought Yukiko, would have looked magnificent on the stage. She would have stood out even in that gaudy crowd of bedecked and bedazzled actors. There was something about her that just shone, no matter where she was or who she was with. Mitsuru was the kind of woman who made striking scenes just by walking into a room. The atmosphere of a place changed around her when she moved. Her every motion and her every word was a fascinating little drama in itself.

"Mitsuru-san," murmured Yukiko, doing her best to keep her voice low so as not to disturb the other audience members. "Have you ever acted in a play?"

She'd been half worried that Mitsuru would snap at her for interrupting the show, but instead, Mitsuru's lips curled very slightly at the ends, into what Yukiko was delighted to interpret as a wry sort of smile.

"Yes," she whispered back. "When I was very young. My father insisted on my pursuing drama classes as a part of my cultural enrichment during my early years."

Yukiko had a brief image of a tiny little Mitsuru, with mini red curls bouncing all over her head, standing in the middle of the room and striking a dramatic pose. It was charming, but also jarring. It was difficult, Yukiko realized, to imagine Mitsuru as having ever been a child. There was something so mature about her that Yukiko could only assume must have transcended age and been a part of her being for most of her life.

"It was tragic," continued Mitsuru, with a little sigh. "I had no talent for it. None at all. My instructor was exasperated, but he feared to tell my father, lest he suffer unfortunate consequences for insulting the daughter of so important a family. Both he and I were forced to endure the torture of stagecraft for years, until finally my father grew bored of it, and sent me off in other directions."

"Oh." Yukiko wasn't sure what to say to that. Eventually, she managed, "But…did you enjoy it? I mean, did you like acting?"

Mitsuru apparently had to think about that for a moment. One delicate finger tapped thoughtfully against her lips, as she murmured, "I'm not sure…perhaps. It is possible that I enjoy the privilege of seeing a play much more than I ever enjoyed participating in one. I do, however, adore the role of Gertrude. That role I would have loved to play. There's something so powerful about a woman like Gertrude. She is in pain, trapped in a life not of her choosing, but pressing forward to whatever end that shackled life might bring. The strength that she exhibits even through her bondage...It's mesmerizing."

A woman in pain, thought Yukiko. Trapped in a life she hadn't chosen…those words struck a chord with her. Once upon a time, she'd felt that way about her own life in Inaba, and about the burden of being expected to carry on looking after the inn. Even now, despite her newfound resolve and her love for friends and family, there were days that Yukiko felt she would love to just fly away and go off on adventures that she'd be able to select for herself.

Today, however, was not one of those days. Today, Mitsuru thought that a caged bird was beautiful, and today, Yukiko was even a little bit proud of having overcome an obstacle that even the magnificent Mitsuru was fascinated by.

As the actors played on, Yukiko wished that she'd been paying more attention to some of the words that Gertrude had said. The character, which had bored her at first, was now the most interesting thing in the play. As she rifled through the program, trying to find any places in the synopsis that might shed further light onto Gertrude's character, Yukiko reflected that she really had learned something today, after all. True, she'd come to the theater expecting to be educated about literature, and she'd been disappointed by how frankly boring that part of the experience had been.

Instead, though, she'd learned something else, something that she couldn't help thinking was a lot more valuable. Today, she'd learned something about Mitsuru, and that wasn't an easy thing to do.


End file.
